


Destinations

by honda_cvic



Category: Hades (Video Game 2018)
Genre: Additional Characters to be added, Additional Tags to Be Added, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, M/M, Mentions of past verbal abuse, No Spoilers, Rating May Change, Relationship doesn't become relevant until a bit later, Swearing, if you're just here for than i apologize and relate, mild Blood and Violence, original background characters - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-27
Updated: 2020-10-23
Packaged: 2021-03-07 23:15:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,173
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26685751
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/honda_cvic/pseuds/honda_cvic
Summary: Zagreus always knew his father was keeping information from him, information that was his birthright to know, so when he finds a faded tear-out from an old phone book hidden between books in his father's office, what other choice does he have? With nothing but two names, two phone numbers, and an address, Zagreus leaves. But his father isn't going to make this easy for him, and who knows what the Fates ever have in store. A Modern AU about a desperate road trip and a hunt for a family he's never known.
Relationships: Thanatos/Zagreus (Hades Video Game)
Comments: 22
Kudos: 97





	1. Diner

The road was hot, and it was dusty, which didn’t make sense considering how freshly-paved it seemed to be. Waves of heat rose up from the edge of the horizon, mirage-like in a sense, as the road seemed to stretch on until the earth met the heavens in infinite embrace. Everything out here seemed stretched: the dry, arid earth traveled outward in all directions like a sea of cracked grey dirt and once-green weeds, the two-lane interstate splitting it through like an arrow. The sky, cloudless yet somehow not the blue it should have been, stretched. The shadows stretched as the blinding sun traveled. Even time stretched. How long had he been walking this interstate? He didn’t know— he didn’t dare turn on his phone to check. And no one wore watches anymore.

Zagreus knew he was overheating. He always ran hot, childhood doctors were always mildly concerned by his default temperature of 99 Fahrenheit, but now it felt like he was being dried from the inside out, starting deep in his throat and under his skin as beads of sweat sprang from sunburnt pores. Three water bottles hadn’t been enough. He should have known this while packing, but to be fair he’d never been this far out of the city before. He forgot how long this road was.

The sun was about three-quarters done with its chariot ride through the sky as Zagreus spotted a dot of civilization in the distance, maybe a mile out— the land here was so flat that it was easy to see once he got his mismatched eyes to focus on it. Looked like a gas station. Soon he was closer and confirmed that it was a gas station, and some sort of rest stop, a diner maybe, which meant water, and a respite from the heat. Another twenty minutes or so of kicking up dust and he was there— the station was old, its once-white and red sign rusted and stained, the four pumps oddly bare-boned. The building adjacent, the presumed diner, seemed slightly newer, the outside plastered in a fake-stone pattern that collected dust in its manmade cracks; a poor design plan really. There were only a few cars parked out front, not surprisingly considering he’d hardly seen anyone on the road that day, and he pushed his way through the front door. The inside was poorly-lit, or maybe it only appeared that way because of how bright the sun outside was, and there weren’t any shades or curtains to protect his more sensitive eye from the unrelenting rays. It smelled faintly of bleach in here, and the linoleum tiles underfoot were suspiciously clean. A counter in a horseshoe shape took up the middle of the room. Red barstools with cracked leather seat covers lined it methodically, except for an empty spot between two of them where it looked like a stool had just been ripped straight from the floor. Zagreus imagined a giant three times his size ripping it out in a fit of rage at his coffee being burnt.

Other than that, there wasn’t much: no fun, 50’s-themed wall decorations or jukebox, just some booths and crusty bottles of ketchup. Zagreus thought to himself that if they wanted to go with the diner theme, they may as well go all the way, maybe frame a photo of Elvis Presley or Betty Boop. That’s what he’d always see on television, at any rate.

There was a young woman behind the half-circle counter, sitting on a folding chair and fiddling with something in her lap. The only indication she worked there, other than the fact that she _was_ behind the counter, was a name tag; another deviation from what he’d see on television, though he imagined wearing an apron for an entire, probably uneventful shift couldn’t be very comfortable or fulfilling. He felt happy for her and her name tag. Other than her there was only one other person in here, a large man squeezed into a booth eating eggs. Who eats eggs at… (Zagreus checked a clock on the wall.) …4:13 PM?

Eager for a chance to rest his legs and get his pack off his shoulders, Zagreus slumped onto one of the old barstools at the countertop, which squeaked too loudly when he did so. He slung his oversized backpack off his shoulders and onto the ground next to him, and sighed with satisfaction at the relief it brought. His plan had been to pack light; he hadn’t realized how much a “light” load would weigh after a full day of carrying it around on his back. The woman, Nona according to the name tag, took a moment to set down whatever she was fiddling with and push herself out of the chair, directing her attention to him, but Zagreus had temporarily pushed manners to the side and didn’t wait for her to speak before he croaked, “A water, please.” He felt a little guilty at the haste of the request, but she didn’t seem to mind, and she fetched a reusable plastic cup in translucent red and filled it at the soda machine. She even added ice, bless her, and Zagreus had sucked it down not a moment after it was placed in front of him. The woman gave him a smile and refilled it without a word, to which he gave back a self-conscious ‘thank you’.

He took a little longer with the second cup, trying to nurse it, and inquired where he could buy some water bottles.

“That lil’ building connected to the gas station, it’s got some essentials for sale,” Nona told him. “Can I get you something to eat?”

“I—” he hadn’t even looked at the laminated menu he just now realized was in front of him, his mind temporarily clouded by the need for water above all else. “If it isn’t terribly rude, I think I might just get some snacks to go at that store.”

She nodded, not appearing offended. “On a trip, huh?”

“Yes, of a sort. I was going to ask, actually, if you know of any bus stations around here? Or any stops, even?”

“Mm, sorry, not around here. White Pine’s about seven miles east, but they’re too small for a bus station I reckon.”

“Right. Sort of a trend around here?”

“Sure is.” She took his cup to refill it again— Zagreus hadn’t even noticed he finished it. He took a breath while her back was turned, trying to focus himself. There were things he had to do, keep track of, if he wanted this all to be worth it. His eyes drifted to his pack on the ground warily, and he found himself pulling out his phone and an off-brand charger. It could still be charged even when it was off, right? Might as well make sure it was fully charged in case he did need to turn it on at any point.

“Do you mind if I plug my phone in for a bit?” the boy asked when the waitress had turned back around and set the water cup down in front of him again.

“Go right ahead. We get a lot of passer-throughs, I get it.”

He nodded briefly and plugged it into an old outlet under the counter, leaving the phone sitting black-screen-up on the countertop. It was almost mocking, sitting there dark, literally designed to provide helpful information in this internet-age: where the nearest bus station was, if Ubers came out this far, if there was a hotel in that town east of here… But no, it had to stay off. He couldn’t risk being tracked, at least not when he was still this close to home. He sighed to himself and rested his cheek in his hand, elbow up on the countertop, as his eyes drifted to the bright windows and the dusty expanse beyond it. He could walk seven more miles today, find somewhere to sleep, then keep going tomorrow. Maybe someone in town would be headed out east and could give him a lift. Maybe he’d try hitchhiking.

He was distracted temporarily by Nona, who had taken out presumably what she’d been fiddling with before; it looked almost like a folded mini-umbrella with some sort of fibrous material covering it, and then she held a spool in the other hand, which she was spinning slowly and methodically, drawing from the fiber around the umbrella. He watched in fascination for a moment before speaking up. “May I ask what you’re working on there, ma’am? I’ve never seen anything like that.”

“Making thread,” she said without looking up, still working. “This here,” she wiggled the mini-umbrella with the cloud of fiber on it, “is wool. This is how it becomes yarn.”

“That’s incredible.”

She paused to glance up at him and smile. “Thank you. Don’t tell my boss, but it’s not like we get a ton of patrons here anyways. It’s a good way to pass the time.” She got back to it. “My friend is having a baby. I wanted to knit a blanket from scratch, something special. It’s her first kid. Gotta have something special for the first.”

Zagreus nodded like he understood.

“Don’t mean to pry, but are you far from home? Don’t hear your accent round these parts too much, unless you’re a tourist. Don’t know what there is to see here, though.”

“Not as far as you’re thinking, though not far enough, unfortunately.” His eyes drifted to his phone again. Dark as night.

Nona nodded like she understood. Maybe she did. “Your journey’s just begun, then.”

He blinked at her. “I suppose it has. I’m only hoping it won’t end before I reach my destination.”

Nona looked at him, then. “Your starting point’s tangible, you always know when you pass it. Destination’s more a mystery until you get there, isn’t it?”

The thread she was working on snapped.

\---

After Zagreus had sucked down a couple more glasses of water and used the restroom (where the scent of bleach was even more potent), he thanked Nona and collected his things, throwing out any trash he’d accumulated so far and unplugging his phone, storing it away again. He carefully counted out the cash to pay for a couple water bottles and bags of trail mix at the gas station, traded it to the mustachioed man behind the counter in the tiny building, then sat outside for a moment to organize his pack to fit the new bottles and snacks. He counted his remaining cash, checked a folding map he’d picked up from a run down travel agency building back in the city, then stood. “Time to go,” he said to himself, almost reassuring, but something wasn’t letting his feet move just yet. He breathed in the dusty late-afternoon air and reached into his back pocket. Zagreus didn’t dare keep this piece of note paper in his pack, although he did write the information down in several other places in case he lost this particular scrap of paper. He pulled it out and unfolded it— it was heavily creased and faded on one side, like it hadn’t been unfolded in countless years. His eyes scanned over the handwritten words like he was trying to decipher an ancient text, despite every one of his father’s rough pencil marks on the paper being well-memorized by now. Two names, two phone numbers. An address. A destination.

Zagreus re-folded the paper and slipped it back into his pocket. Another breath, steadying his fire. He started off again.

\---

The sun was just beginning to set when Zagreus heard what was coming. If it had been coming from in front of him he would have seen the dust billowing upwards long before he heard it, but it was behind him, and he hadn’t been checking over his shoulder like he should have been. The engine was a low rumble, the wheels a high whirr, and Zagreus felt his heart drop into his stomach as he turned and saw the car speeding towards him. Even through the dust and the waves of heat, even with the red setting sun in his eyes, he knew that car. Who else would drive a fuchsia sports car? And who else would be driving that _fast_ towards him?

There wasn’t even anything he could do to get away, no embankment he could throw himself down, no undergrowth to hide in, no swamp to sink into. So what could he do but step off the road and wave?

The car passed him in a huge cloud of dust, the breeze it created tugging at his shirt and dark hair, and came to a screeching halt sixty feet or so ahead of him, veering off into the breakdown lane. The engine had barely shut off before she kicked the door open and climbed out, all nearly-six-feet of her, everything in her stance screaming _you are literally going to die in about ten seconds_ as she slammed the door shut so loud behind her that the sound seemed to echo over the entire landscape. Her lips, a bright pink as always, were curled up in a snarl. Zagreus thought to himself that if the things parents told children always came true, her face would surely be stuck like that by now.

 _“You.”_

“Hello, Meg.”

Megaera was already quickly closing the gap between the two of them, her long legs guiding her forward in short powerful bursts; she moved with the same purpose she always moved with, and that purpose was usually something along the lines of, say, beating someone into a pulp. Sometimes this happened verbally. Sometimes this happened physically. “Don’t you _hello_ me—“

“How’d you find me? I expected to have a bit more of a head start.” Zagreus folded his arms behind his back, faking nonchalantness, trying to keep his muscles un-tensed, relaxed. Easier said than done.

She snorted a laugh without a smile, stopping about ten feet shy of him. “Does it matter?”

“Let me rephrase it, then: Does anyone else know where I am?”

“Not yet. They will once I drag you back home myself.”

Ah, there it was, then. His eyes drifted past her, to her car parked behind her. “You’re going to get me in that car?”

“I am.”

“How?”

She seemed to be growing impatient with this game. She took a step closer to him. “There are a couple ways it could happen. Maybe if you make this quick, I’ll even let you pick.”

“That’s very awfully generous of you. How much is father paying you, by the way?”

“Your stalling’s pointless, so are your questions. We both know there could be worse people than me bringing you home.” The implication hung in the air like smoke. Zagreus resisted shrinking away to duck beneath it, to get a breath of fresh air.

“I’m not going home, Meg,” he told her quietly, a soft plea for her to understand. “I found something in father’s office, and—”

“I don’t want an explanation,” she cut him off with a growl, closing the gap a little more. Zagreus stood his ground. “I want to do my job. Which I can tell you’re going to make difficult.” She sighed, stance relaxing a little as she rubbed the bridge of her nose and added more quietly: “You always do…”

“Then I guess we’re at an impasse. Sorry about that.”

“I’m not, frankly.” And she lunged for him.

Zagreus was fit, but Megaera had always been bigger, and the two of them went tumbling onto the cracked, dry ground; they hit it hard and rolled. Zagreus ended up pinned; Meg had his wrists in her hands and had the rest covered with her knees and her weight, but Zagreus wasn’t done. He thrusted his hips upwards and her balance lilted forward, and that was all the leverage he needed to free one of his legs and use it to twist out from beneath her, swing a now-free arm up and over her back and under her armpit— he tried to get her in a headlock from there but she was faster, she punched him hard in the gut and he rolled off her again, dust rising with each movement. He tried to get himself back up onto his knees but she was already on him again, body slamming him into the ground. His head hit it hard, the dry grass doing little in the ways of padding. _“Shit,”_ he gasped as his head spun, and all he could do was bring his hands up to protect his face as she pinned him again. _“Sorry,”_ he breathed, and brought his hand back to his ear in a swift motion, elbowing her directly in the nose.

It was Megaera’s turn to curse, but she didn’t waver as much as he’d hoped, and just redoubled her efforts to pin his arms along with the rest of him, one of her elbows now fully pressed against his windpipe. Zagreus tried to buck her off, tried to kick or muscle his way out, but she had him now. Blood from her nose dripped onto his face, landing next to his green eye. “You’ve always been stubborn, but this is a new level even for you,” Meg growled from over him, unrelenting in her pressure on his throat.

Zagreus gagged, head spinning, but still he didn’t stop trying. He wouldn’t. He couldn’t. “I’m not going home until I find my family,” he choked out, eyes tearing from lack of oxygen.

And it all happened very quickly from there. Back at the rest stop, Nona finished rethreading the spindle.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Big thanks to @Smugeroni on twitter for being my beta and providing me with some ideas. Please leave a comment if you liked it! Next chapter coming soon.


	2. Bus Station

He had ended up in the car.

He didn’t understand how Megaera could fit so comfortably inside it; it was a sports car, some Lamborghini-adjacent, so it was very low to the ground, but somehow all nearly-six-feet of her seemed calibrated to operate the car with perfect precision. Over in the passenger seat, Zagreus felt like he just couldn’t get comfortable. It might have had something to do with his clothes now being coated in dust and dirt, and still being slightly winded from the earlier-received punch to the gut. But it definitely also had something to do with the general lack of legroom and the awkward angle of his black leather seat.

He risked a glance at the driver as they sped down the interstate. Her nose had stopped bleeding but was turning an ugly yellow on its bridge, and her bright pink lipstick was smudged across her upper lip. She kept her eyes stubbornly on the road ahead, and as the sun set behind them, the last remaining light glinted off her gold jewelry.

“How _did_ you find me?” Zagreus broke the silence, shifting in his seat.

Megaera’s intense gaze darted to him for a moment before shifting back to the road. She puckered her lips and scowled. “Just drove around until I spotted you. Hades hinted you might be heading east.”

Zagreus held in a sigh of relief. So he wasn’t being tracked somehow, and presumably no one else knew where he was. Good. That was good. Though… if his father knew he was headed east, then he likely knew why he’d left. He ran a hand through his thick, dark hair and looked out the window. They had just passed the exit for White Pine.

After a beat of silence, Meg continued. “You’ve really fucked up this time. I hope you know that.”

Zagreus hummed in pleasant agreement. “You’ve always been so supportive of my decisions, Meg, I want you to know I appreciate it.”

She made a noise like a growl from the back of her throat. Zagreus smiled to himself.

“He’s going to send others after you.”

“Good thing your sisters’ cars are as hard to miss as yours.”

Megaera let out a bitter laugh without any humor behind it. “You’re so fucked.”

“Yeah.”

They drove in silence for longer. Meg flipped on her headlights, illuminating the darkening road ahead of them. Zag shifted in his seat. It was getting suddenly hard to keep his eyes open, a full day of walking under the harsh sun’s rays beginning to catch up with him, but he didn’t dare sleep yet. It wasn’t too late for Meg to turn the car around.

“Why are you helping me, Meg?”

“If you ask me that again, I’m turning the car around.”

Yup, definitely not too late.

After a beat of silence, she continued unprompted in her low voice. “Obviously if you tell anyone about this, I’ll hunt you down again. Though, that might have to happen anyways.”

“Gotta save face, I get it.”

She grunted. Zagreus watched her face, the way her brow wrinkled, the narrowing of her golden eyes. She ran her tongue over her teeth absently. “My sisters are the only family I have. And you know how famously we get along.” Her eyes darted over to him for but a moment, piercing, almost painful. “You should get a chance, is all. To see what the rest of your family is like. To see if you’re really as fucked as the rest of us.”

He kept staring at her long after her eyes were back on the road. “Thank you.”

“ _Don’t_ mention it. That’s a threat.”

He sat back in his seat and looked back out the window. “Noted.”

At some point he drifted off to somewhere dark and dreamless, waking only when the car started slowing and shifting through lower gears in harsh jerks. He blinked half-lidded at the clock; he’d been sleeping for about forty minutes. It looked like they’d entered a large town. Megaera was stopped at a light, tapping her long fingernails impatiently on the stick shift. “Your phone’s been off, right?” she asked, not looking at him. How’d she know he was awake?

“Mm,” he yawned in confirmation.

“People back home have been trying to call,” was all she said, and Zagreus felt his stomach sink a little. ‘People Back Home’ could mean a surprising amount of people. He liked a lot of People Back Home, actually. It only made him feel guiltier.

“I did tell Nyx I was leaving,” he said before he could think better of it.

If that surprised Meg, she didn’t show it. “Well, she hasn’t told anyone else, you’ll be happy to know. Not even her kids.”

Zagreus’ stomach churned, his mouth felt dry. She’d always known where to hit him where it hurt. “How’s Cerberus?” he croaked, changing the subject.

“I’m sure he’s fine. You know your dad loves that dog.”

“I think it’s him I miss the most,” Zagreus mumbled, resting his head against the window and letting his eyes close once more.

About twenty minutes later, Megaera pulled her car into the roundabout in front of the bus station, tires screeching as she came to an ungraceful halt. Zagreus lifted his pack from the floor of the passenger seat and onto his lap.

“This is as far as I’m taking you,” Meg said. “Any farther is too risky.”

“I understand,” he reassured. “And I appreciate it.”

 _“Enough._ Just get out of my sight.”

He nodded and opened the door, climbing out and slinging his pack back onto his back. “Well, it’s been fun. We hadn’t wrestled like that in a while.”

“Glad you enjoyed yourself,” she droned with no gladness. Then her face softened, a normally imperceptible amount, but growing up with Meg gave Zagreus very small insights into the intricacies of her many different scowls. “Take care of yourself, Zag.”

“You too.”

He closed the door, and the car sped off. Zagreus was alone again.

Surprisingly, he’d never been alone much growing up, despite his distance from his father. He’d always had tutors, nannies, caretakers, sometimes even friends, most of whom he genuinely cared for, despite their employment or correspondence with his father. The far-reaching nature of his father’s business, the crossover between personal and work life that seemed to define the Hades household, meant that there were always people around. Zagreus did not grow up lonely.

He felt lonely now, as he entered the too-brightly lit bus station. It was fairly busy; some people were lined up at a window to buy tickets, others were sitting around on hard plastic chairs. Zagreus checked a schedule on the wall, trying to ignore the annoying buzzing of the overhead lights and the smell of stale cigarettes. His mismatched eyes scanned the list of destinations, seeing what would take him closest to his goal. There was one bus that would take him pretty far, but it didn’t leave for another few hours. He looked out the window into the night. He could probably spare a couple hours, right? Find somewhere to grab a bite to eat, maybe even close his eyes a few minutes. He sighed to himself. He’d never been one to play the waiting game for, well, anything. His hot-footedness had certainly gotten him into trouble more times than he could count. But he didn’t have many other choices here.

He took note of the bus number and time of departure, and stepped into line to buy a ticket. He counted out the cash methodically and handed it over when it was his turn, got his ticket, then found a place to sit among his fellow soon-to-be passengers. Might as well get comfy here, he figured, as he reached into his pack to fish out some trail mix and a water bottle. As he did so, his knuckles brushed over his phone, and he heard Meg’s words echoing in his head. People Back Home.

Ugh, shit.

Zagreus pulled his phone out and stared down at it, down at his reflection in the dead screen. Only two days of travel and he already looked like shit, dust coated into his hair, bags under his eyes. Maybe he should have dressed nicer, brought nicer clothes than he had packed. Was this what he would look like when he showed up on the doorsteps of an uncle or two that he’d never met before? What would he say, then, to convince them not to call the cops on him?

This was a bad idea. It all was. He could hear his father’s booming voice in his head, echoing between his ears: _You’re in over your head now, boy. Maybe starving out on the road and being turned away by my worthless brothers will finally teach you a lesson._ But even the illusionary voice of his father set his skin on fire, made him see red, and he felt defiance rise up in his chest. Even an imagined scolding only made him more determined to see this through. It was a bad idea, and that’s why he was going to do it, dammit.

Maybe as a fuck-you to imaginary-dad, maybe for other reasons, Zag turned his phone on.

There was some immediate regret, especially when his lock screen photo popped up along with the date and time. There was his dog, Cerberus, so close to the camera and at such an angle that it looked like he was smiling. It was Zagreus’ favorite picture. His heart ached a little.

And then his phone seemed to really wake up, and the texts and voicemails started rolling in. It was good the phone was on silent, or else surely he’d be receiving some nasty glares from his fellow bus-station-goers at the cacophony of beeps and buzzes it’d be producing. Zagreus didn’t let his eyes focus on anything in particular, just let the notifications roll in, trying not to catch any names just yet. He put it facedown in his lap for a moment, took a deep breath. Preparing. Reminding himself why he was doing this.

After a few more steadying moments, he lifted his phone and looked at the screen. The notifications had stopped coming, at least. Fourteen texts, four voicemails. Zagreus opened his text message app and started scrolling.

He was a little surprised by how many people had tried reaching out. Achilles, Orpheus, Dusa, and Hypnos had all texted him. He felt little pangs of guilt as he scrolled through them, their texts of concern, of gentle questioning as to where he was, of warnings about his father’s anger (and, in Hypnos’ case, at least three memes). Then he checked who had left the voicemails. One from Achilles, one from Dusa. One from Thanatos. One from father.

There was a distant ringing in Zagreus’ ears, something different from the buzz of the overhead lights. He skipped Achilles’ and Dusa’s for now. He tapped on Thanatos’ message and held the phone to his ear.

His best friend’s voice sounded too distant but too close. _“I’m skipping the niceties, Zag. I want answers. I know you, I know you’re stubborn, I know you aren’t going to just come back because we’re asking you to. So I want to know why, and I want to know why you—”_ it sounded like he had stepped back from the phone, like he needed to take a second, _“—why you wouldn’t tell me? I just—”_ There was a sigh, and Zagreus could imagine him there, rubbing at the space between his eyes with his thumb, shoulders hunched. _“…just call me. Please. Please just call me. Alright? All… right.”_ At that point, he’d hung up.

Zagreus stared numbly down at the phone. “Than…” he breathed, bringing the phone up to his forehead. Of course he hadn’t _wanted_ to leave him behind, his best friend, his closest confidant. Of course he… Zag let out a shaky breath, sitting back and staring up at the ceiling. Alright. Next. Then the phone needed to go off again.

_Hades. 8/2/2020. Three seconds._

_“You’re going to regret this, boy.”_

_End of message._

Hm, well then. Zagreus deleted that message. And he shut his phone off. He had things to do.

\---

Twenty-six minutes until the bus arrived. Zagreus was bored out of his mind.

He’d eaten a pack of trail mix, went down the street to a McDonalds for an egg sandwich (thank goodness for the all-day breakfast menu), chatted with several other people at the station, and he still had time to waste. Ugh, why didn’t he bring more stuff to do? He could hear Achilles’ voice in his head gently inquiring about why he didn’t bring a book or two, maybe get ahead on his studies. _Sorry, sir._

So that was how he’d found himself wandering around behind the bus station, trying to satisfy his need to pace, to ease his nerves at the thought of his phone being tracked the brief time it was on. It was late by now, and the street was quiet. A flickering light illuminated the space behind the building where he paced. Then, a light that had been out suddenly flickered back on. Zagreus turned. It was lighting up a phone booth.

He stared at it. He hadn’t even thought those were still things that existed. Yet there it was, looking old but probably functional. His mind flashed to scenes in movies, filmed in black and white, of men in suits crowded into phone booths, slipping quarters into the slot, cupping hands over their mouths. Untraceable, strategic.

Zagreus found himself moving towards the booth, his hand traveling to his back pocket and taking out the slip of paper. He stepped in; it was doorless, just a shallow booth with the phone hanging limply on the receiver, yet he felt like he had just stepped into an entirely different space, of something nameless yet secure, distant but familiar in its feel. He felt claustrophobic. He felt invincible. He slipped two quarters into the coin slot.

The dial tone in his ear seemed to momentarily snap him out of it, and he stared down at the folded paper in his hand with a frown, holding the phone to his ear with the other hand. Two phone numbers. (Two names. An address.) What was he doing? What was he going to say? He raised a finger to start plugging in the first set of numbers— each metallic key felt bulky under his finger as he typed it out, each corresponding beep in his ear more and more off-putting. Hi, I’m your nephew. I’m not sure if you know if I exist or not. I didn’t know your name until recently; I always suspected you had a name other than ‘useless brother.’ Please don’t hang up. Did you know? Did you know about me, all this time? Why didn’t you _do something?_ Why didn’t you—?

_“Hello?”_

He hadn’t even noticed it ringing, and was so startled by the booming voice on the other end of the line that he literally threw the clunky, plastic phone piece back at the receiver, slamming it into a definitive hang-up. Ah. Shit.

Zagreus stared blankly at the now-dead phone, heart racing. He… should probably go wait for the bus.

\---

He waited in line meekly, mind wandering continuously back to the text messages, the voicemails, the booming voice on the other end of an untraceable relic. He had made sure to dig out his ticket from his pack beforehand, and now had it gripped tightly between his fingers; it was starting to get a little sticky with sweat from his hands. Extremely attractive.

He heard some people ahead of him in line mumbling sleepy hellos to the bus driver, who Zagreus didn’t hear reply. Some people had more substantial luggage that they loaded into a compartment on the side of the bus, and Zagreus felt naked with just his pack and his dusty clothes. He certainly looked the part of a runaway.

When it was his turn to board the bus, he stepped up to hand off his ticket. If he were someone else, he probably could have just handed it off and gotten on, found a spot, had a nice and peaceful bus ride. But he was not someone else, he was he, and so he had planned on greeting the driver pleasantly, expressing his thanks. So when he looked up at the surprisingly tall driver to offer characteristically chipper pleasantries along with his ticket, well, he hadn’t been expecting _him_ , and a gasp seemed appropriate.

The large hat the driver wore was unmistakable, and even if it weren't, that ghastly face below it was even more so. Gaunt cheeks, large eyes, flat and wavy hair, he was nearly like a skeleton in a wig, though Zagreus would never admit that to his face. Maybe to his siblings’ faces, but certainly not to Charon's.

 _“Mate!”_ Zagreus practically squeaked, letting out a nervous laugh to try to cover the previous gasp. “This is not where I expected to run into you, I have to say! Knew you worked as a driver but this is a bit out of the way for you, isn’t it?”

Charon stared at him. He made a sound like a groan under his breath. This was a typical Charon response. (He knew sign language, used it occasionally, knew Zagreus knew it well enough. But usually Charon preferred to just, groan. _Good for him,_ Zagreus always thought.)

“Right, well, you see, I’m just— I’m going on a little trip, pre-authorized, of course, but just in case, you won’t, erm, mention this to anyone, will you? That you saw me here, I mean, or where I’m headed to.”

Another groan. The person in line behind him cleared their throat.

“Well, I appreciate your cooperation, always a pleasure to see you!” Zagreus forced a laugh again and held out his ticket for Charon to take.

The bus driver took it. He beckoned Zagreus onto the bus, and the boy shuffled on with a quick ‘thank you,’ and sighed in relief when he found an empty seat and sank into it. This was certainly an unexpected hiccup. Or, maybe it wouldn’t be a hiccup? Maybe Charon wouldn’t mention anything to anyone, like his siblings Thanatos and Hypnos, or his mother Nyx (who, granted, already knew where Zagreus was headed). It wouldn’t be that out of character for him to just not say a word.

He was feeling much less anxious about the whole situation, more amused than anything, by the time everyone had filed onto the bus and they had pulled away from the station. Zagreus had the double-seat to himself, so he put his pack on the seat next to him and leaned on it. It was a moonless night, dark and cloudy, and he blinked sleepily at the passing scenery as the bus started through the city. If he fell asleep, how different would the scenery be when he awoke? How close would he be to his long-lost blood relatives? Certainly closer than he’d ever been before. He was born in his Father’s city. He had always been there. And here he was, now. It was nearly midnight, and as Zagreus drifted off, he thought of his uncle Zeus’ voice on the other end of an old payphone. _Be there soon._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to everyone who left kudos or a review for the first chapter, I really appreciate it! Hypnos is non-binary they/them in this fic, hence the use of "siblings" instead of "brothers" when referencing the twins in relation to Charon.


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